


Nothing but time

by roselightsaber



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Commitment, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9530450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roselightsaber/pseuds/roselightsaber
Summary: Some questions about their love are simpler than others.





	

They’re 23 and 24, idealists, holy men, devout but never ascetic, full of the joy of the universe. _Their_ universe, and their tiny, pure little home in it, a cold, sandy stone with a core of ancient magic. Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus, names rarely uttered more than a few words apart, spirits twined even closer, monks, Guardians, a pair of saved souls, stare upward at the vast sky. They started out side by side on the cool stone platform, a ledge high in the Temple of the Whills, but, as they always do, they drew closer and closer until Chirrut was coiled around Baze like a strong, sinewy vine around a thick tree trunk, both drawing in life from the world below. Chirrut rests a hand on Baze’s chest, feeling his even heartbeat, his steady breaths. Perfect calm despite the question he’d just been asked, because it was one for which they both already knew the answer.

“What would it mean to you?” Baze asks, his voice more a vibration under Chirrut’s fingers than on his eardrums.

That requires slightly more thought, and he takes his time. They’re young, their world is peaceful, they are untouchable except by the starlight and each other. They have nothing but time. “An outward sign of what we have,” He answers after a comfortable silence. “A chance to tell everyone that you’re mine – officially.”

Baze chuckles. “Is that important to you? That everyone knows?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I was expecting a fuzzier answer, from you.” He tilts his head to look at him fondly, taking in the star-strewn sky reflected in his eyes. It’s better than the real thing. “A pledge to the Force. A binding of souls. Something like that.”

He quirks a brow, soft lips pulling into a smile. “And yet you are the one with such poetic words at the ready.”

“I suppose,” He says, and goes quiet as if that’s a satisfactory end to the statement.

Naturally, Chirrut presses him – with words, and with a stubborn nuzzle against his cheek. “What would it mean for you, then?”

“It would be something sacred.” He closes his eyes against the onslaught of affection, doing his best to tamp down a laugh as Chirrut insistently kisses the ticklish spot beneath his ear. “A promise to you.”

“And what would you promise me?”

Once Chirrut nibbles at his earlobe, that’s the last straw, and Baze rolls over him with a grunt, the suggestion of pinning him down without any actual restriction, the smirk on his lips a stronger force than his arms for keeping Chirrut in place. “That I go where you go.”

“Always.”

“Always.” The kiss he brushes to his lips is brief, but only so he can return to gazing at him reverently.

“Then you see why I want everyone to know.” He strokes Baze’s cheek with the back of one hand, admiring. “We are a testament to something beautiful in the universe.”

“Ah, there’s the mysticism after all.” When Chirrut smiles, Baze lifts a finger to the crease that forms at one corner of his dark, expressive eyes, teasing and appreciating all at once. “You’re going to have such wrinkles here someday.”

“You share my _mysticism_.” He swats his shoulder, smile only growing brighter. “And you’ll share my wrinkles someday, too.”

“Because you worry me so.”

“Because we’re going to spend our lives together.” Kissing Baze’s palm, Chirrut’s tone grows more serious. “You and I are one in the Force. To stand in front of our family, and to show them how the Force binds us in love, and to share that gift with the people that brought us together – that would mean a great deal to me.”

Baze rubs the pleasant, soft bristle of Chirrut’s recently shaved hair, as awed as ever at the way the other leans into his touch. “To me, too.” Their next kiss lingers – they have nothing but time, and each other.


End file.
